


What if?

by Eona_edel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack-ish, Everybody gets along, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, More characters will be added along the way, happy ending i swear, modern!AU, more relationships too, more tags along the way, pinning, trying to not make people OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eona_edel/pseuds/Eona_edel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern AU! where Lyanna is the one who falls for Rhaegar, who is 8 years older and too damn sexy for his own good! Watch as she plots to win the heart of her prince charming with her unlikely best friend Cersei Lannister and forever trusty sidekick Jaime Lannister. </p><p>In a world where everyone gets along, Lyanna Stark will struggle to catch the attention of a concrete wall thick Rhaegar Targaryen.</p><p>P.S. The Targaryens are not batshit crazy in this story, Aerys is quite sane and Viserys is not a tortured little shit.</p><p> </p><p>[Doing my best for weekly updates]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fateful Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ASOIAF fic, hope you guys will enjoy it! The ages of the different characters might get screwed up a little so my story works, but I have decided to keep the 8 years difference between Lyanna and Rhaegar.

Lyanna remembers the first time she met Rhaegar like it was yesterday…

 

 

5 years ago

 

At the tender age of 8, Lyanna of House Stark was allowed to attend her first official social event; the annual New Year party thrown by the Targaryens. Every year without fail, the noble House would welcome old and new money alike under their roof to celebrate the upcoming year, for the youngsters, it was a chance to meet new people and even possibly make friends, but for the adults, it was the perfect opportunities for forging new alliances and arranging profitable marriages. Needless to say, it was THE event of the year, and no one in their right mind would dare miss it. Weeks in advance, ladies from all invited families would flock to their favourite designers requesting dresses, shoes and other extravagant items, all coming down to a rather large price tag. But money was the last thing on the minds of the female guests; nothing came close to the fear of committing a fashion faux pas and face the ridicule of the other ladies for the year to come. A deadly combo of fear and excitement had morphed all women into overzealous creatures buzzing with energy, these females will dress their husband and their children with the best clothing they can afford (according to their each individual taste anyways) so they look their absolute best, in a desperate attempt to outshine the rest.

In the Stark household, things were a little bit different. Sickly and bedridden even since the birth of her youngest son Benjen Stark, the lady of the house was, by all means, physically unable to attend such parties; which left the problem of dressing the children for such formal occasions in the hands of the man of the house. Rickard Stark was a capable man, he could dress himself no problem and he can even get his boys some well-tailored suits, but Lyanna proved to be a whole other challenge…  
Growing up without much of a motherly figure and a lax father, Lyanna Stark spent her days running around in the house wearing the most comfortable of clothes, which are hand-me-down shorts and over-sized tees from her older brothers. Thankfully, gods bless Old Nan and her mysterious ways, the elderly woman produced a frilly-lacey-pink dress out of nowhere, supposedly of the latest fashion, and forced Lyanna into it. 

Screaming and kicking (to put it mildly), the young girl was forced into the car. Pouting the entire way, her sourly expression only changed when the car pulled into Dragonstone, the ancestral mansion of the Targaryens, only then her young face morphed into an expression of awe. The estate was huge, housing a family with only three living members; Dragonstone was nearly three times the size of Winterfell, the Starks’ house, which had twice the number of occupants. Its looming grey walls and carved gargoyles imposed respect and even stroke fear into the hearts of weaker men. 

Once inside the Targaryen house, Lyanna Stark was left to herself as her father went to greet Aerys Targaryen, the master of the house; her brother Ned rushed to the side of his best friend Robert Baratheon and Brandon went straight to the bar area. Left to her devices, wandering off on her own seemed like a viable option, Lyanna ducked into a quiet hallway and sneaked away from the crowd. All around her, the walls were decorated with exquisite paintings; the subjects of said portraits were all fair-skinned, silver haired and purple-eyed, all Targaryens without the shadow of a doubt. As she went further and further down the hallway, a soft and airy tune wormed its way into her ears, a curious child by nature, she followed the music to a half-open door, a peek inside the room stopped Lyanna dead in her tracks. There was a man inside that room, well, more of a teenager, was playing the harp. In her eight year old mind, the stranger in front of her was the very definition of beautiful. If it were up to the young Stark, instead of those boring words and even duller sentences, the Oxford dictionary should just put that man’s picture underneath the word and anyone with basic aesthetic notions would understand. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. Unknowingly, Rhaegar entranced the girl to come out of her safe hiding place behind the door and move into the library, albeit cautiously. She never stopped staring. 

The silver haired stranger (a Targaryen, Lyanna deduced) never stopped playing, his long and nimble fingers picking at the strings, for the next few minutes, the young Stark lost herself into the world of music, her head filled with soft notes. Her daydream continued even though the music had ended. The young girl only snapped out of it when she heard a low chuckle (a very melodious sound mind you) coming out of her silver mystery man. 

Blushing furiously, she began: “So-sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

“It’s alright, music is meant to be listened to anyways,” replied Rhaegar with a wave of his hand, not bothered in the slightest, “Now, if you will please tell me, what are you doing here little lady?”

“I am not little… or a lady! My name is Lyanna!” Lyanna frowned, she hated being patronized by others, especially by those unrelated to her, now fully expecting the man in front of her to be cross, like her brother Brandon often was when she was being impertinent. To her great surprise, the purple eyed man laughed.

“Very well then, I apologize, Lyanna. But I will have to escort you back to the party, this part of the house is not open to visitors,” said the silver haired teen. He walked up to the Stark girl and gently grabbed her elbow. Lyanna resisted, but his grip on her was firm enough not to be shaken away. 

“But, I don’t want to,” insisted the young she-wolf, looking straight into the older boy’s eyes, “I don’t know anyone but my family here…” 

Rhaegar Targaryen had always been a soft hearted boy, at least not cruel enough to ignore the pleading eyes of a child. Sighing to himself, who could blame her, himself, heir of the Targaryen House, hated these New Year parties his parents threw every year, the ball room crawled with both cunning men and seductive women fighting for his attention. It was a nest of vipers out there and he couldn’t help himself to feel bad for the little girl in front of him, still so innocent and inexperienced to the ways of the upper society. 

Kneeling down to Lyanna’s height, “You don’t know anyone eh? Let’s change that right away, my name is Rhaegar Targaryen, the first of my name.” The purple-eyed teen extended his hand for a handshake and offered the girl a warm smile.

“My name is Lyanna Stark… and I don't know if I am the first of my name or not, but it’s a pleasure to meet you,” replied the young Stark as she hesitantly put her small hand into his much larger palm. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and stood up.

“Good, now that we are officially introduced, I’ll be your first friend. Come on, we have to go back now, my presence there is needed and I am sure your family is getting worried.”  
Nodding to herself, Lyanna let herself to be guided back to the party, still clutching Rhaegar’s hand. 

The unlikely duo immediately attracted the attention of one Rickard Stark and his two eldest offspring, “Sir! Thank the gods you found her, I was so worried she might have wandered off to gods knows where!” Relieved, Ned heartedly thanked the older man.

“Please, no need for such formalities, you can call me Rhaegar, and you must be Brandon’s younger brother Eddard. It’s nice to finally meet you.” The young dragon smiled down to the boy in front of him, only two years younger, but still quite a bit shorter than the Targaryen heir. 

“I hope my daughter didn’t cause you any trouble Rhaegar, she can be a handful sometimes.” Sending a reproaching look to his only daughter, who sheltered herself behind her first friend.

Like a real gentleman, the silver haired teen denied the Stark patriarch’s accusations, “No, no, not at all Mr. Stark, Lyanna has been a most diverting companion.” Turning his attention to the younger girl, he took her hand into his and placed a light kiss on her knuckles like some knight of the old. And for the first time ever, Lyanna Stark blushed because of a boy. 

Brandon Stark, who was well acquainted with the charms of the young dragon, couldn’t help himself from shaking his head in resignation as he watched his younger sister fall victim to Rhaegar’s courteous ways.

 

______________________________

 

For the rest of the evening, Lyanna acted like a totally creep and monitored Rhaegar’s every movement. She watched in amazement as people flocked to the young man and crowded around him like he was the best thing to happen to humanity since sliced bread. Elia Martell, among other women, was eyeing him like he was a piece of chum and her, a ravenous shark. She wondered how he did it, being so at ease within a large group and to be able to please others so effortlessly.

“You’re not very subtle you know, and it’s very rude to stare.”

Caught like a deer in the headlights, the Stark girl whipped her head around in alarm only to see a girl her age with the blondest hair she had ever seen; and next to her, was an equally blonde boy with an all too smug expression on his face. 

Startled, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lyanna replied hotly. Trying her best to stare the other girl down in an attempt at intimidation and it would have worked too, if only Cersei Lannister were a few inches shorter. 

“Riiiight. And you did not get escorted into the room by Rhaegar bloody Targaryen.” The blonde deadpanned. Next to her, the golden boy chuckled. 

“Errr…. I.. How do you know that? Were you watching him too?” Lyanna challenged the newcomer with renewed energy. 

Unimpressed, the Lannister raised an eyebrow, “First of all, I know because I have eyes and second of all, who isn’t watching Rhaegar, he’s so dreamy, like a prince from those fairy tales!”

“Sorry about my sister, she is obsessed with Rhaegar, even drew a picture of him and her together on the back of a dragon,” teased the Lannister boy with a wink and with a shit-eating smirk plastered on his face. 

“JAIME! SHUT UP!” Cersei screeched, horribly scandalized. “Anyways,” said the girl after clearing her throat and regaining somewhat of her previous composure, “My name is Cersei Lannister and this is my twin Jaime. And I know you are Lyanna Stark, so for the sake of your family name I will allow you to be by my side for the rest of night.” With her chin up in the air and her gaze proud, Lyanna half expected Cersei to stick out her hand for the Stark girl to kiss, like Rhaegar had done for her.

Not really sure of what to say, she could only manage a choked “wha?” out of her pretty mouth. 

Amused by her incoherence, Jaime, once again, came to the rescue of the fair maiden. “What my sister means is, she would like to be your friend, since no else here our age is good enough for her.” 

“Oh. Ok. Since you asked so nicely,” agreed the dark haired girl with a teasing smile of her own. 

Scowling, Cersei sent her brother the dirtiest glare she could muster and intertwined her arm with Lyanna’s, “Good, you are now part of my I-Love-Rhaegar-Club, club meetings are on every Wednesday and Saturday at my house and we will also meet on other weekdays so you can come shopping with me and my mother, because that dress is horrible.”

 

______________________________

 

At the end of the day, Lyanna Stark walked out of that completely over the top party with two things: one, a childhood crush with silver hair and violet eyes, and two, new friends whose last name isn’t Stark or Poole. 

Against all odds, she had fun that night.


	2. The Queen of Love and Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so we're clear, I have no knowledge about fencing whatsoever so please bear with me, thx :) Aaaaaand I made Edmure the Blackfish in this story, pls bear with me.

Present Day

 

Now thirteen and recently on board the puberty train, Lyanna Stark has yet to grow into a more womanly form, her breasts have yet to inflate and her curves are positively non-existent. Five extra years to the young Stark’s life has done nothing to change her character; she is basically still the same stubborn, impulsive and tomboy-ish girl from all those years ago.

“Lya! Lya! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late to Brandon’s match!” Her younger brother Benjen yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

“Geez I know, coming!” Checking herself one last time in the mirror, she dashed down the stairs to join the rest of her family.

“Good, now that we’re all here, we can finally leave!” Ned exclaimed as he leads his fellow siblings to their father’s SUV.

 

___________________________

 

Every year, the University of King’s Landing hosts the annual fencing tournament in the Harrenhal building on the far south side of the campus. Students from all around Westeros gather to compete with one another, luckily or unluckily for the eldest Stark, who was finally accepted into the prestigious fencing team of KL University, home to the Dragons.

Excited, the whole pack of young wolves jumped on the occasion to watch their eldest brother in action.

Seated at their respective places on the bleachers, Lyanna was joined by her friend Cersei and her twin Jaime.

“Sup,” greeted Jaime, as he plopped down in the seat next to his sister.

“Which one down there is your brother, Lya?” Cersei asked, her eyes scanning the crowd.

If it wasn’t for her grey eyed companion, she would have never bothered a trip from Casterly Rock to come to some gym, only to see a bunch a men sweating like pigs in white skin tight body suits.

“I don’t think he’s out yet…. No, wait…. There he is! See! That’s him! BRANDON!” She screamed while waving at him. Looking up, the heavily built teen flashed a huge grin to his sister before waving back just as excitedly.

Less than impressed by this familial display of affection, Cersei merely raised a golden eyebrow, “Lya, honey, why am I here again? You can’t possibly think that your brother is my type? No offense, he’s ok looking and all, just not my cup of tea, too burly looking.”

Feeling her left eyebrow starting to twitch, the she-wolf replied, “Shut up Cersei, I didn’t bring you here to watch my brother, who by the way, already has a girlfriend. I told you to come because I got Intel from Brandon that, you know, ehum—Rhaegar is competing today…”

Unlike the other girl, the Lannister heiress got over her “Rhaegar phase” a few years back, but it doesn’t mean she won’t jump on the chance to appreciate fine specimen of male beauty when it’s presented to her on a silver platter.

“Really? Is that why you’re voluntarily wearing a dress today?” Smirked the lioness while nudging her infatuated friend.

With her delicate cheekbones dusted with pink, Lyanna lowers her gaze, suddenly finding the floor a most interesting subject to examine.

“Leave her alone sis, she’s the only one who’s only got eyes for the Targaryen, half the girls in the bloody stadium are here for the ‘silver haired prince’ as they would call him,” snorted Jaime, as uninterested as always when it came to the matters of the heart, even though with his golden looks and maturing body frame, girls were practically throwing themselves his way, and it didn’t hurt that he was conveniently rich.

Rolling her eyes, Cersei dropped the subject.

A comfortable silence fell between the trio of teenagers, occasionally interrupted by Benjen’s excited screams and Ned’s chastising voice.

After dozens of minutes of sitting around and doing nothing, much to the golden lioness’ annoyance, the first contestants were finally entering the fencing stripe. Right off the bat, the first match was a high speed event, both parties were parrying, stabbing and sparks flew.

Jon Connington proved himself to be a worthy opponent but was, in the end, defeated by Edmure Tully “the Blackfish”, the man earned himself the nickname because apparently, he ate nothing but the stuff. But to the Starks, he was not only the compulsive fish eater most saw him as, but also the younger brother of Catelyn Tully, Brandon’s girlfriend.

Defeat came swiftly for the redhead. On the other hand, the Tully boy was basking in his glory and his sisters, seated a few rows behind the Starks were clapping loudly.  
Redirecting her attention towards the ruckus, Cersei Lannister casted the two girls a glance with barely disguised disdain, “Hey! Lya! Which one of those two is your brother’s girlfriend?”

“The prettier one DUH!” Jaime exclaimed. “I mean cmon, the other one constantly looks like she drank a whole year supply of sour milk.”

Lyanna couldn’t help but to crack a smile at the boy’s antics, “Oh, shush! You’re being mean, but yes the one who’s aesthetically more attractive is the one dating my brother.”

“Really? She looks too vanilla for your brother; I thought he went for the wilder type?” Cersei said sceptically, still eyeing the Tullys from the corner of her eye.

 

________________________________

 

The next few matches were uneventful and only rendered interesting by Jaime’s sarcastic comments and bondless knowledge about the sport.

“Ok yeah, that guy’s idiot, why isn’t he guarding his left!? And his steps are messy too, gods! This man’s very presence on the stripe is an abomination! A polar bear with disposable thumbs would have been a better fencer!” His usually pale cheeks stained with red, the Lannister heir plopped down on his seat positively seething.

Surprise by his outburst, Lyanna couldn’t help but ask, “Since when do you know so much about fencing?”

“Since I stopped sucking at my mom’s teats, you just wait wolf-girl, when I am gonna be their age, I’ll be the best swordsman this place has ever seen. I’m totally gonna kick ass,” said the blonde teen proudly.

Rolling her eyes, Cersei ignored her twin’s antics, muttering something aong the lines of, “leave mother’s breasts out of this”. Growing more and more impatient, the green eyed girl was seriously tempted to ditch these two fencing fanatics and leave. But luckily for her, things were finally getting more interesting. As the next two contestants entered into view, Cersei felt her friend stiffen next to her and realized why.

Brandon Stark VS Rhaegar Targaryen

Damn. Karma really is a bitch.

Whistling under his breath, Jaime was the first to break the silence, “Well this is awkward… Who’re gonna root for Lya?”

Mortified, the young Stark remained quite speechless. Next to her, Benjen and Ned hooted and cheered for their older sibling. For obvious reasons, their sisters was less enthusiastic in her cheering.

As soon as the two boys crossed swords, the difference in skill became obvious, Rhaegar was elegant in his thrusts and attacks, and left little room for his opponent to counterattack, while Brandon was sloppier and not as quick on his feet.

On the stands, Lyanna was just as busy, she cheered left and right for both sides, even though the Targaryen heir was in no shortage of cheerleaders, ninety percent of girls were cheering him on. Hell, most of them were here because of him.

The match between the two concluded with the silver haired man’s overwhelming victory, much to the Starks’ distress. Visibly sulking, Brandon walked off with a sluggish pace one would usually associate with a petulant 6 year old.

Up in the stands, Benjen’s spirits were crushed, now sobbing against the thighs of a very motherly Ned Stark and Jaime was impressed to say the least.

“Well I’ll be damned… So the Targaryen wasn’t just talk… I’ve got to say, despite his outrageously exotic and a teensy-weensy bit girl-ish looks, the guy’s got some serious skills.”

“Of course! Do you think that me, your dear sister, would spent years of her life pinning after an bumbling oaf? Even though I don’t like him anymore, I have to admit, that was pretty awesome. I just have such good taste in men.” Cersei smugly said.

“Oh for gods’ sake, I have never been so glad that father’s plans didn’t work, to think that Rhaegar Targaryen almost became my goodbrother and I almost had to listen to you ramble on about how perfect he is for the rest of my life…. The mere thought of it makes me want to hurl myself down a cliff.”

“Wait, what?” Lyanna screamed, redirecting her attention to her friends, “How come I didn’t know about this?” Her grey eyes flashing. Despite her short stature, the girl can look downright murderous if she wanted to, damn the Starks and their wild wolfish genes.

“Oh, geez. No need to get your panties in a twist, nothing happened. My dad tried to sell me off to the Targaryens, but Aerys turned him down saying something like there's a too big age difference.” Cersei shrugged.

Lyanna opened her mouth to say more, but was cut short by snicker coming from behind.

It came from a dark skinned girl, Dornish if they had to guess. With a nasty smirk plastered on her pretty face, she didn’t hesitate to taunt the Lannister girl, “I can’t believe your father actually asked. How humiliating, if it had happened to me, I would have cried my eyes out and be too embarrassed to show my face ever again.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed into slits as she moved closer to the enemy, fully using her tall stature to her advantage, the Lannisters were nothing if not intimidating.

“Humiliated? Why should I be? My father is Tywin Lannister, one of the most powerful men in the world and I at least had a chance to be betrothed to Rhaegar while your very presence would be considered an insult. A bastard hoping to marry the heir of the most prestigious family in Westeros? What has the world become!”

The dornish girl’s face turned into a thousand different shades before settling into an Angry Birds red. Judging by her expression, the dark skinned girl seemed fully ready to make things physical. Cersei on the other hand was fearless, she had her twin at her back and not to mention Lyanna Stark, the fiercest 13 year old Westeros had ever seen.

As the breaking of a brawl seemed imminent, an outsider interfered, “Ellaria, enough!”

Oberyn Martell approached them in all his glory, bronze skinned and shiny dark eyes, he looked like the antithesis of fair Jaime Lannister, and yet, he was just as handsome, but in a wild unbound way.

The sight of her prince charming calmed Ellaria, but the viper wouldn’t back off unless all its poison had been spilled, “You just watch Lannister girl, you will never have him, he is going to date Miss Elia, their fathers arranged the match” hissed the girl before stalking away furiously to her own party.

Oberyn, on the other hand, stayed back and apologized, “I’m sorry for Ellaria had said, she has quite the temper sometimes.”

“Indeed, like all bastards I assume…” snapped Cersei with venom. “You better keep that one on a leash Martell, she’s freaking feral.”

Lyanna fully expected the dornish young master to get mad, but instead he laughed it off and walked away.

 

____________________________

 

The mood sobered up rather quickly after the departure of the Martells, Cersei had a scowl glued to her face, Jaime was not bothered in the slightest (men and their insensitivity) and Lyanna’s heart was no longer in the game, especially now that Brandon was no longer in the competition. From the corner of her eyes, she watched the dornish party. The young Stark didn’t know much about the Martells other than their long going feud with the Tyrells. But now that she knew Elia Martell was most likely going to be Rhaegar’s girlfriend, this changed everything. The she-wolf examined her “rival in love” with keen interest. Elia was pretty by all means, slim and willowy built, and her dark skin, dark eyes and even darker hair made her stand out in a crowd. The Martell heiress was everything Lyanna’s septa wished for her to be, gentle, soft spoken and graceful in her movements; and to top it all off, she seemed to have this motherly air around her that men found so attractive. To be honest, Rhaegar could do a lot worse.

Deflated, Lyanna sunk deeper into her seat. It was not like she actually loved the Targaryen heir... but she always felt some sort of possessiveness towards the man who proclaimed himself her first friend, and it really didn’t help that he was so bloody attractive, no matter what Cersei said about her being a total tomboy, Lyanna still had hormones.

Sulking, the Stark girl spent the rest of the time deep in thought.

‘Lya! Lya! Look who it is!” Jaime cooed into her ear. Snapping out of her daze, she saw Rhaegar.

Arthur Dayne VS Rhaegar Targaryen

Most people bet on Arthur Dayne, nicknamed “sword of the morning” by his peers, to win, it is said that he is unparalleled in skills, according to Jaime anyways.

The fight between those two had the audience on the edge of their seats, even Cersei grabbed Lyanna’s arm when Arthur Dayne came dangerously close to stabbing the dragonspawn’s shoulder. Against all odds, the silver prince won, gamblers all around found themselves a few golden dragons lighter.

Ecstatic, Lyanna rose from her seat and clapped a hard as she could, as most women did. The commotion only subdued when Headmaster Pycelle handed a crown of blue winter roses to the winner. It was customary for the victor to choose a Queen of Love and Beauty and give her the crown, it usually when to the girlfriend of a female family member, but considering Rhaegar had no girlfriend, not in an official capacity anyways and his mother wasn’t present, this means every woman in the gym was fair game, whether she was in a relationship or not.

Feeling none of the tension in the air nor the piercing gazes of the female population, the silver haired man bantered casually with the other contestants, the flower crown still clutched in his hand.

Fidgeting all over the place, Lyanna REALLY wanted to know to whom the Targaryen is going to crown, anyone was fine for her other than the Martell girl. Her along that Ellaria bitch were now on her Bad Shit List. But somewhere deep down, she wished she could have that crown of winter roses, after all, only a true woman of the north could appreciate their frigid beauty.

Cersei, who would rather eat her own shoe than to give that Ellaria Sand the satisfaction of being right, began plotting.

Turning to her best friend, “Do you want that Crown Lya?” The blonde asked.

Alarmed, Lyanna recognized that tone. Whenever Cersei Lannister stopped talking to you as if you were beneath her, she was plotting something. “I don’t know, why you ask?”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Jaime, be a dear and drag wolf-girl along,” said Cersei as she made her way down from the bleachers.

Forever loyal to his twin’s commands, Jaime dragged Lyanna with him despite her protests.

Now, a mere few feet away from Rhaegar, the young Stark froze. At the sight of him, her brain cells just fried. If any man could look so gorgeous sweaty, it just had to be him. His silver hair was messy, random strands sticking out in odd directions and some even glued to his face because of the sweat. His purple eyes were startlingly bright and Lyanna couldn’t think of a better way to die than to drown in those orbs.

“Mister Rhaegar!” Cersei said, effectively catching the man’s attention, “Sorry for interrupting your conversation,” at this point, she was full on glaring at the poor man who was talking to the dragon prince. Luckily for him, he knew how to take a hint and fled the scene fearing for his life, he only hoped that Tywin Lanninster wouldn’t send one of the multitudes of assassins he has on retainer or worse, send one of the Clegane brothers after him.

“No, not at all. I believe my companion just left me,” jested the purple eyed man with a lopsided smile, fully aware of what just took place in front of him. “So to what do I own the pleasure of your company Miss Lannister?”  
“Nothing but your own fencing skills sir, my friend Lyanna and I were most impressed and we would like to congratulate you on your victory.”

Upon, hearing the Stark girl’s name, Rhaegar directed his attention on the dark haired girl. “What a pleasure to see you here Lyanna! Though I do have to apologize for disqualifying your brother.”

Reduced to a babbling mess, the she-wolf surprised herself by uttering a complete sentence,”Ehum.. N-no, no need to be sorry really, Brandon’s ego needed to be taken down a peg or two.”

“Pffft.” The Targaryen laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was a nice sound, his voice; it bore a close resemblance to the notes of the harp he played so well.

Once he stopped laughing, the man’s purple eyes connected with the girl’s silver ones and he ruffled her hair. Earning an indignant squawk form the latter.

“You have grown Lyanna.” He said fondly with a soft look in his eyes, raising a hand to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The young Stark felt a blush creep up her face. “Who would have known that the lost little girl from all those years ago would grow into such a beautiful young lady.”

The two stared at each other for a few more moments, before Rhaegar gently laid the delicate crown of flowers on Lyanna’s head and named her the Queen of Love and Beauty. Taking her small hand into his, the Targaryen heir softly kissed her knuckles and walked away.

Still in a daze, Lyanna Stark had no idea what was going on. Her face was warm enough to fry eggs on and the poor girl might just self-combust any time now. Women from all around were sending her death glares, to which Cersei gladly replied to with additional venom on the side. Grabbing her friend by the shoulders, the blonde shook the dark haired girl until her head was no longer in the air and then looked at her dead in the eyes, “Rhaegar freaking Targaryen just called you beautiful and looked soulfully into your eyes. As if that was not enough, you made him, HIM, laugh? It’s the bloody first time anyone’s heard him laugh! And at last but not least, he crowned YOU the Queen of Love and Beauty. You. Me. My house. Club meeting. Now.”

The last anyone saw of that year’s little queen was her getting dragged away by the Lannister heiress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful feedback!! Reviews and kudos are my life force ;)


	3. Mandatory Club Meeting!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I am SOOOOOOOO sorry it took me this long to update again. I am trash in human form I know. But! I promise I will try my best to put out one new chapter every week from now on. Thank you all so much for remembering this crappy fic of mine. :)

A love and hate relationship. 

 

It’s a miracle how five little words can describe the complexity of the relationship between Lyanna and Cersei so perfectly. 

 

As her first friend ever, the blonde held a very special place in the brunette’s heart. As her Stark DNA commanded, the young she-wolf loved her family more than words can say and valued them above all else (yes, even the annoying and patronizing Brandon). But Cersei was a close second and Jaime a definite third. She would level mountains and tame seas for her friends, but there were moments she would much rather just fling them into the Narrow Sea and let them drown . 

 

Faster than lightning, Cersei grabbed Lyanna by the wrist and dragged her off, dispatching Jaime to deal with the pack of confused Starks. Before the female Stark could conjure up a protest, the trio of teens were already in the Lannister’s Cadillac, buckled up and ready to go. How Jaime managed to get back so fast, Lyanna will never know.

 

As soon as they touched down on Casterly Rock, Cersei dragged her friend to her room and barricaded the door.

 

“What.the.hell.was.that!” Lyanna rasped, completely out of breath.

 

“That, my love, is what you call a kidnapping.” Cersei replied with a smug expression on her face.

 

“Are you serious? My father is going to flip shit when he hears about this,” asked the female Stark, her voice incredulous.

 

“Don’t worry, why do you think I sent Jaime to talk to your siblings. Now back to the real reason why we are gathered here today… You, my dear, have just been crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty by no one other than Rhaear Targaryen himself! Any thoughts you would like to share with the rest of the world?” The lioness asked, rolling up some random piece of paper and sticking it under Lyanna’s nose as a mock microphone. 

 

“Piss off,” laughed the she-wolf while gently slapping off the other girl’s hand. “It probably meant nothing.”

 

Cersei cast the grey eyed girl a mocking glance and drawled, “Yeah, right. And Jaime doesn’t drool a river when he sleeps. Hon, you have that sickeningly sweet smitten look on your face and you can’t stop smiling. If I have to guess, you’re probably already going on imaginary dates with the man in that little head of yours.”

 

Startled, “Th-tha-that’s not true!” Lyanna stuttered, blushing furiously.

 

“Really?” The Lannister asked, raising an eyebrow, “Then by all means keep on looking the way you look now, the tomato look suits you perfectly.”

 

“Raargh! You’re so infuriating!” Lyanna growled as she tackled the blonde. The two girls fell unto Cersei’s plush bed in a heap of tangled limbs. Not wasting a single moment, the she-wolf attacked, tickling the other girl furiously, as the ever graceful Lannister heiress is reduced to a laughing twitching mess. 

 

Just as things were getting heated, Jaime’s blonde head pocked through the door and a sleazy grin bloomed on his face. “Niiiiiice,” said the boy in a suggestive tone, “If I knew this was what you guys were doing in here on those supposed I-Love-Rhaegar club meetings, I would have crashed the party a loooong time ago.” Jaime teased with a wink.

 

Sobering up instantly, Cersei untangled herself from Lyanna and growled, “Get out Jaime! This is a girls meeting!”

 

Unmoved, the male twin lets himself in entirely and shut the door behind him. “Cmon sis, don’t go all sexist on me. I helped out plenty today on your seducing Rhaegar little game.”

 

“First of all, stupid brother of mine, today’s main goal was not to seduce Rhaegar, but to ruin the chances of that Martell girl, because I hate that Ellaria girl’s guts. Second of all, Lya got the crown as an added bonus, and it was all thanks to MY brilliant scheming, not yours. And finally, this is a club where we appreciate the epitome of male beauty, named Rhaegar Targaryen, bestowed upon us by the gods to save us from the hordes of ugly men that surround us daily and their affront on our delicate sensibilities. He is a gift to humanity and sould be appreciated as much. And might I remind you that you don’t even like Rhaegar as a person!” 

 

“Cersei, chill. I never said that I don’t like him, I just don’t get why you guys make such a big deal out of the guy. Besides, I’m bored, so lemme join, I’ll even help you scheme! Two Lannister brain is better than one right?” Seeing that his sister is still unconvinced, Jaime brings out his ultimate weapon… old Lannister sayings. “As father always said, a Lannister always pays his debts, and I totally backed you against those Martells and even got Lya’s brothers off your ass… You own me big sis.”

 

Frowning and lips pinched together, Cersei Lannnister was cross. After a few moments, she relented, “Fine you can join, just this once though!”

 

“Pffft.” A muffled laugh came out of the young Stark, attracting the attention of the two Lannisters. “Cersei, you looked like you were constipated!”

 

That particular comment drew an indignant huff from the female twin and roaring laughter from the male twin.

 

“See! That’s why I don’t let Jaime into our meetings, you two always gang up on me!” 

 

“It’s all in good fun Cersei!” Jaime teased, “So what are the activities we have planned for today? More pillow fighting?”

 

Casting a very nasty glare to her brother, the lioness went rummaging in her walk-in closet. “As I was telling Lyanna,” began Cersei, her voice muffled by whatever she was looking through. “She just got crowned by Rhaegar and a man like him doesn’t just randomly hand girl titles, especially when he has a supposed girlfriend lined up for him. So, given the givens, there’s only one conclusion I can come up with, he likes, or at least has some degree of feelings for our little wolf girl! And as the commoners often say on the internet, I ship it!” Apparently finding what she was looking for, the Lannister heiress stepped out of her closet with a 3 inch binder in her arms and a triumphant smile graced her face.  
“What the fuck is that monstrosity,” asked the blonde boy, seconded by Lyanna.

 

“This JEWEL,” insisted Cersei as she shoots a pointed look Jaime’s way, “is all the data I have been gathering Rhaegar and other some plans I’ve made.”

 

Walking up to her bed, the blonde girl carefully laid the binder down on her bed and gestured for the other two to join her. When all three were comfortably settled in, the elder twin opened her “jewel”.

 

“As you can see, this binder has been organized into sections and each one has been color coded, and when they cross reference each other, there are footnotes that will guide you to that specific page or pages and I even made a glossary at the end,” explained Cersei, visibly proud of her work.

 

“Holy shit… how much time did you spend on this thing? No wonder you don’t shop as much as you used to…” Jaime whispered, surprised by the amount of work his sister has put into this and amazed by how her OCD appears in something she made for fun.

 

Lyanna on the other hand was speechless, her thoughts a collection of @#$%#$%$%#$@?????

 

“Anyways, this is only the first draft so it’s a bit crude, so bear with me,” continued Cersei, “in the first section we have all the general info on Targaryen heir, but in here we’ll just call him RT, his name is waaaaay too complicated to write, but to be fair that is his only flaw.” 

 

In this section one, there were general facts one would find on Wikipedia and there were little less common facts like the name of his first pet, his favourite brand of boxers, the exact length at which he keeps his hair and etc. all written down in the blonde’s neat script. 

 

“His favourite brand of bo- Cersei!” Lyanna blushed a thousand different shades of pink at that little bit on info.

 

“Yup! Believe it or not it’s CK, I thought it would have been something more highbrow but no matter, he still looks good.” 

 

“How did you find out? Please don’t tell me pulled off his pants at one of the parties and pretended it was an accident?” Jaime asked, suddenly feeling bad for the dragonspawn.

 

“Of course not! That is not how a lady should behave. I simply bribed one of his maids to tell me,” answered the older twin, oddly proud of herself. “Moving on, in the second section we have all the events he plans to attend in the near future, the ones highlighted are the ones he definitely will go to and the ones encircled are the ones he has a high chance of going to. This section will be constantly updated of course, and starting today, Ly and I will do our best to attend to the most of them.”

 

As the lioness drawled on about her wonderful binder, Lyanna shuddered and reminded herself never to make an enemy out of this girl, she was a damn good stalker…

 

“Lya! Pay attention! The next part is important! So from section three onwards we have our wedding preparation section.” This is the part where Lyanna chokes on her spit and Jaime rolls his eyes.

 

“Don’t you think your taking this a bit too far sis? I mean the guy has a girlfriend.” Jaime couldn’t help asking.

 

“An unofficial girlfriend, within our circle Jaime, being official is everything, as long as Rhaegar’s facebook status says he’s single, he’s fair game,” countered Cersei, “plus, even if they were together they might break up! And our little Lyanna here, even though she’s as flat as the tabletop right now, will grow up to be pretty young lady in no time. A Lannister must always be prepared for every contingency!”

 

The Lannister heiress paused and looked at her two companions in the eyes challenging them to contradict her, as her challenge fell as flat as the Lyanna’s chest, she continued.  
“Section three is a bit boring, it’s basically a list of locations where the wedding can take place, it ranks from the Starks backyard to the Great Sept of Baelor, one to ten respectively. Not that I mean any offence to your backyard Lya. If you like the backyard wedding sort of thing, go with the Targaryens’ backyard, a far better choice.”

 

Yup… Lyanna felt throttling her now…. This was just too embarrassing, one minute she gets a crown of fowers, which by the way could mean NOTHING and the next second she’s getting married to her long time crush, and the wedding’s already planned… without her consent… 

 

“And then on section four we have inner décor, like the type of flowers, table runners and that kind of thing-“

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s just slow down for a minute ok,” said Lyanna, “Cersei, I would trust with my life, but inner décor? Not your forte. I mean have you seen your room? With all the red and gold and lions; it’s like we’re on the set of a Harry Potter movie and we’re all in the Gryffindor common room right now!”

 

“LOL she does have a point Cersei! Funny how I never noticed before!” Jaime exclaimed cheerfully.

 

“Fine, you guys don’t know how to appreciate my refined tastes anyway,” huffed the young blonde. “The next section is about make-up, we’ll skip that one, you two won’t get it and section six is about wedding dresses, but I’m still compiling those.” Flowing white gowns filled the next ten or so pages, some pictures were from magazines and others brochures. 

 

“And at last but not least, hair styles!”

 

“Gods! Finally! Anymore girly-ness, I’m gonna puke out rainbows in my sleep,” complained Jaime.

 

“Oh no! Poor baby, fortunately you’ll stay the drooling mess that you are during sleep.” Cersei remarked sarcastically. “As I was saying, hair, now I found this girl, she’s been nominated Miss Westeros or whatever, her looks are meh, her nose is fake and her taste in clothes is plebeian but she has decent taste in hair styles and I think they would look nice of Lya.” 

 

And Cersei went on and on and on…….. If this was only the first draft, the young Stark was seriously scared of the end result. 

 

 

At the end of the day, when Lyanna Stark finally got out of the lioness’s clutches, she came out of Casterly Rock with enough wedding knowledge to last a lifetime and the absolute certainty that her love life hasen’t seen the last of the Lannister heiress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review and feel free to leave kudos!! :)


	4. Let's talk about age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT AN UPDATE! I REPEAT THIS IS NOT AN UPDATE! But you should still read. I have noticed that the age setting in this story can be a bit confusing, I kept some of the canon age gape and decided to age up or down right invent for others. So please read the following if you're not sure about their ages.

I decided to keep the age gape between Lyanna and Rhaegar canon and the age gape between Elia and Rhaegar is also canon.

R is 8 years older than L and E is 2 years older than R.

 

Lyanna - 13 years old

Rhaegar - 21 years old

Elia - 23 years old

 

I aged up Danaerys and Viserys, because in canon, when Rhaegar died at 24, Viserys was 7 and Dany was just born. The age gape there is a bit too big.

Viserys - 11 years old

Dany - 3 years old

 

As for te rest, I didn't bother to look up, I just sort of made them up, so it woud fit with the story.

Cersei/Jaime - 13 years old

Brandon - 21 years old

Ned/Robert - 19 years old

Benjen - 10 years old

Ellaria - 13 years old

Oberyn - 16 years old

Howland Reed - 13 years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and sorry for the confusion. More will be added as the story goes on, so feel free to come back and check for new caracters! :D


	5. A Sad Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chap guys! Hope you'll like it! Took me forever to finish, wasn't sure if it was too early to start the angst...

For an extended period of time, Lyanna’s life was good. She had great friends; her family were as tightly bound as always. She even enjoyed going to high school, a deed which the young she-wolf deemed impossible at one point in her life. At the age of thirteen, like most of her peer Lyanna started high school, along with the Lannister twins, they attended Old Town High, home to the rich and snobby. Needless to say, Cersei found her way around the social circles of the school like a fish in the water. The golden girl wormed her way to the top within weeks, first getting elected in to the student council, joining the cheerleading squad and it didn’t hurt that she threw her family around quite a bit. Believe it or not, there was no shortage of people willing to grovel at the teen’s feet. Jaime on the other hand, didn’t like the idea of organizing event for the student body, too much of a bother and he dreaded responsibilities. Instead, he joined the fencing and horseback riding team, and with his skill and dedication (not really), quickly made a name for himself, and soon took a place on the top of the food chain next to his sister. 

 

As for Lyanna, she hated the double faced rich girls and their snobby ways, and disliked the boys for their pompous attitude, so after joining the same clubs at Jaime, the trio basically ran in different social circles. As most Starks, she preferred the honest, simple people, they may be “uncouth” as Cersei would call them, but the young she-wolf liked their company. But their friendship remained as close as ever, everybody knew it was a bad idea to mess with the young Stark girl, not only she had terrifyingly protective older brothers; she was also well trained in the combat arts, not to mention the wrath the Lannisters will unleash upon the unlucky fellow. 

 

One downside though, the constant presence of that bitch Ellaria Sand and her lover Oberyn Martell. 

 

So during school days, the she-wolf hung out with her hipster and kind of loner friends, namely a kid called Howland Reed, who’s in her grade; and after school she would go to Casterly Rock and enjoy some club activities (that 3 inch thick binder soon grew too be 5 inches thick). And during week-ends, the two girls would go to all the formal parties available, much to the dismay of the Stark patriarch, though he never guessed the reason why his only daughter suddenly became so interested in socializing.  
Cersei’s Intel, as ever, proved to be accurate, all the events highlighted in the Binder (yes, capital B because that thing is just that unique) were attended by a special someone. For the next few months, the two girls stalked the older man with great interest, lurking in every shadow, jumping at every occasion to talk to Rhaegar and even creating a few opportunities of their own; which in turn involved quite a bit of “accidentally” physically bumping into each other at parties. 

 

______________________________

 

When the warm winds for summer slowly cooled into the chilly breezes of fall, disaster stuck…

 

_____________________________

 

Violet eyes stared into the mirror. Pale cheeks, sullen eyes heavily lidded with dark circles and enough weight on his shoulders to crush his spine, Rhaegar looked at himself. Rearranging his tie one last time, the young Targaryen stepped out of his room. 

 

The Great Sept of Baelor was in a word, grand. There really was no other way of describing it. Built by one his ancestors Baelor the Faithful, though the young dragon himself was never one for religion. Outside the building, all core members of the seven great families of Westeros and their retainers were in attendance, lining up on each side of long stairwell, leaving the middle for the Targaryens. The walk up those steps was excruciating for the dragon heir, holding a sobbing Viserys’s hand on one side and cradling the blissfully unaware Danaerys against his chest on the other, he suffered. Rhaegar had no remedy for his younger brother’s tears like his mother and no answers for Dany’s constant pleas for mama, only the sad truth. In front of him, Aerys held his head high, his back unwavering, just as the head of a noble house should behave, and the same was expected of him… a coldness that was not in his nature. 

 

Rhaegar was always more of an artist, a gentle soul sensible to the ways of the world, but today and for many to come; he cast his soft heart in an iron shell. As the eldest son, he must always do what is best for his family, even if it meant repressing himself. His eyes not weep for his mother, that task will be left for his heart.

 

At the top of the marches, the Martells waited, words of sympathy were exchanged between the two head of the house. Elia, seizing the opportunity, walked up to her silver haired prince and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Knowing all too well that this was the Martell’s cue to make thing official between them, Rhaegar placed Danaerys into his now girlfriend’s arms and kissed her back on the forehead. 

 

Together, led by Aerys, both Martell and Targaryen entered the sept. 

 

The inside was just as the violet eyed man remembered; the cold marble steps, the faint candlelight and the looming alter in the middle of it all, it made made his stomach churn. More stoic than ever, the Targaryen patriarch marched up to the altar, where the coffin of the late Rhaella was placed. Her hair was neatly braided and combed, stones painted the same shade of violet as her eyes were placed on her alabaster face. It almost made her seem alive. Viserys, no longer able to retain his sobs, wailed his eyes out. Next to him, Dany would innocently ask why mommy was just lying there. She’s just sleeping, Elia would answer. 

 

Rhaegar simply remained silent. 

 

Soon after, the reception started. Guests flooding into the sept offering their condolences, some sincere, but most of them filled with hypocrisy, the pampered women weeping fake tears hoping to earn his father’s graces. They barely knew his mother. Only he knew, Rhaegar was the only one who knew about his mother’s selfless love and her sorrow which ran so deep, it seeped into her bones, each time she lost a child, it tore her apart. No one other than him was there to comfort Rhaella, so who are they to pretend to understand her? 

 

More tired than words can say, and filled with cold fury, the dragon heir disappeared.

 

_____________________________

 

Lyanna has never been to the Sept of Baelor. The Starks being followers of the Old Gods, they never worshipped in septs, preferring the comforting presence of a heart tree. She never in a million years imagined her first trip there would be for Rhaella Targaryen’s funeral. 

 

Dozens of men and women dressed in black gathered near the coffin, paying their last respects.

 

The young she-wolf tiptoed around the guests, trying her best to behave, as her father ordered. She made polite conversation when needed and did her absolute best not to offend the delicate southron sensibilities of the guests. It was utterly exhausting. 

 

At the first opportunity, she ducked out to the back garden. 

 

It was a nice quiet place, they call it a garden, but it was the size of a park, little alleyways sinuated amidst the greenery and Lyanna could even see a small pond not far from here. Her spirit of adventure spiked, the female Stark decided to do some exploring. She followed one of the small pathways, going wherever it lead her, occasionally skipping over puddles left by yesterday’s rain.

 

After a few twists and turns, a bench came into the girl’s view. Just as she was about to make way for it, a flash of silver caught her eye… Quickly realizing who it was, the young Stark froze, not wanting to disturb him on such occasions, she turned to leave. Unfortunately for her, she turned around too quickly and caused her to lose her balance, and as she cursed the inventor of these torture devices called high heels, she twisted her ankle… and let out a very un-lady like yelp.

 

Slapping a hand over her mouth, Lyanna limped as fast a possible away from Rhaegar, cringing occasionally from the sharp pain. In her mind’s eye, the she-wolf was breaking record speed, fleeing from the bench like a murderer from a crime scene. But in reality…. She merely moved a meter or two from where she was originally. 

 

Her efforts proved to be fruitless, for Rhaegar, not deaf in any way, heard a yelp and then scuffling noises a small animal would make. Having no choice but to check things out, the dragonspawn realized he was not that far from the truth… a limping wolf pup. Forever the gentleman, the Targaryen heir cessed the self-inflicted torture show before him, then inspected the girl’s wound and escorted her back to the bench. 

 

Once seated, Lyanna couldn’t help but burn in shame, making a fool out of herself the day of Rhaegar’s funeral was the LAST thing she had in mind…

 

Feeling the need to explain herself, she started, “I didn’t mea-”

 

Just as the silver haired man said, “How are you fee-”

 

Looking at each other awkwardly, they both simultaneously continued with a “You go first!”

 

If this were a cartoon, Lyanna would have steam coming out of her ears by now. Before the purple eyed man could get another word in, she blurted out, “I am very sorry for your loss.” 

 

Effectively dampening the atmosphere between them, Rhaegar’s facial expression closed up immediately. All traces of familiarity gone, only the impassive mask remained. Deep down inside, Lyanna felt like impaling herself with her ancestral sword, why? WHY must the typical Stark I-don’t-think-about-the-consequences-when-I-say-something manifest itself now!!! 

 

“I mean I… I di-didn’t mean to intrude on your family matters,” she stuttered. “And I am so sorry for disturbing you, I’ll leave now.” As she got up to leave, a pull at her elbow stopped her. 

 

“No, stay. I overreacted... I apologize.” The Targaryen heir said looking directly into her grey orbs.

 

“Oh… Ok.” And they sat in silence… Not sure of what to say or do, the young Stark fiddled with the hem of her dress. She certainly didn’t expect her companion to break the silence first.

 

“You must be wondering why I’m out here.” the silver haired man began softly, his gaze lingering in the clouds above them.

 

“Not really… It’s your business, I’m not that nosy,” whispered Lyanna under her breath.

 

The recently motherless Rhaegar let out a humourless chuckle and let out a resigned sigh, too tired to maintain his composed appearance, his posture slackened and sprawled himself on the bench, long limbs covering as much space as they can. 

 

“If only everyone was as honest as you… Life would be so much easier.” The purple eyed man said exhaustedly as he loosened his tie. “Isn’t it annoying? That huge crowd in there... Gathering around my father and me like flies…”

 

Surprised, “I didn’t realize you were bothered by them this much, I mean, you always seemed at ease at social gatherings.” She answered.

 

“Usually? No. But I am somewhat losing my composure today,” admitted the man in a soft voice.

 

Turning her attention to the man next to her, Lyanna took a long hard look at him for the first time today, his usually neatly combed hair tousled by the wind and purplish shadows hung beneath his sad eyes. He looked tired, and the she-wolf knew at that moment that no matter how collected Rhaegar might be, he was just another man who lost his mother.

 

“I’m sorry.” She offered weakly. 

 

“Thank you… She would have never wanted all this you know. My mother. She always hated how publicized our family life was. The mighty Targaryens! And me! The heir to the most influencial family in all of Westeros and I can’t even mourn my mother in peace. The irony of ironies, don’t you think?” Rhaegar snorted in the most self-derisory way possible. 

 

“Come on, let’s go back, before all hell breaks and the media spins out some outlandish story about me eloping with the Stark heiress.” He teased with a lopsided smile.  
Forgetting all about her twisted ankle, the she-wolf collapsed right into the arms of her silver prince, blushing furiously, she pushed against the man’s chest to get away, only to be held back. Rhaegar steadied the young girl by grabbing her arms and then he knelt with his back to Lyanna. Confused, the young girl stared at the Targaryen heir’s back, having no idea what he was doing.

 

“Go on! Climb up!” 

 

“What!? You mean, I g-go, on yo-your back?” The absurdity of the situation had reduced the female Stark’s IQ to critical levels. Among all the things she planned on accomplishing in her life, getting a piggyback ride from her crush was not on the list. 

 

Sensing her hesitation urged her to get on his back. 

 

The trip back to the Great sept of Baelor was a short one, at least for Lyanna, with her head rested on his shoulders, she immersed herself in the man’s cologne a rich but subtle smell, similar to the smell of smoke but gentler to the senses. Once arrived to their destination, the pair untangled from each other.

 

“I appreciated your company today… I needed to purge and thank you for listening.” Gazing into the metallic orbs of the young Stark, Rhaegar leaned in and gently kissed the top of her head. They lingered in this position for a few moments before the Targaryen stalked away, leaving a dumbfounded Lyanna behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you all so very much for reading! Please leave kudos if you liked the story and reviews are my life source! :)


	6. The Aftermath (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here I am again updating! I feel oddly proud of myself, actully being able to write one chap per week... So this chapter is kinda short because there's a part two to it, I initially wanted to put them as one chap but it turned out too long and I wouldn't finish it in time. So enjoy!

TARGARYEN HEIR AND MARTELL HEIRESS GETTING COZY AT FUNERAL!?

 

Rhaegar Targaryen, heartthrob extraordinaire, heir to the massive Targaryen conglomerate, has been seen getting rather close with Elia Martell, only daughter of the current Martell CEO. It has long been suspected that the two families have intention of forging an alliance through marriage, but neither party has ever come forward about the whole deal. By the looks of what happened yesterday, a confirmation of the supposed rumour won’t be far behind! Not only had the dragon prince publically placed a romantic kiss on her forehead (PDA alert!!), the youngest child of the late Rhaella Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen, has also been placed under her care for the whole duration of the reception. As far as we know, this is the closest any girl has come to being an acknowledged love interest of the young dragon, can this be the start of a passionate love affair?

 

___________________________

 

As always, Westerosi People was the first gossip magazine to make news coverage about the stunt he had to pull on his mother’s funeral. Annoyed, Rhaegar flung the worthless piece of crap across the room, letting it crash and burn against his bedroom wall. Exasperated, the man ran a hand through his hair, messing up the previously neatly combed silver locks. He always knew his dating life, perhaps even marriage, wouldn’t be one born out of love, but out of convenience and mutual benefaction, as it often was. So to the eldest Targaryen child, Elia Martell was as good a choice for a bride as any other, it was never his decision to make really, in the end, Aerys would be the one making the final call. Elia Martell was everything the Targaryen patriarch wanted for his son, she hailed from one of the great seven families, she was of the right age, she was not bad to look at, her family made a good business partner and as a bonus, the girl was half in love with Rhaegar already. It’s quite sad really, that a girl’s eligibility is boiled down a checklist of traits. Therefore, the silver haired man didn’t mind he was going to spend with the rest of his days with a woman he barely knew, if it wasn’t Elia Martell, it probably would have been some other bimbo, and to be honest he could have done far worse, he could have been paired up with Seylse Florent for example. The young dragon shuddered at the very thought of that hairy moustache…. But he didn’t like one thing though… the way the Martell girl forced his hand, making him expose their would be relationship on the day of his mother’s funeral. That day should have been all about the ex-Targaryen matriarch, but the olive skinned Martell barged in… Was she eager to link her name to his? A shroud of disappointment flashed in his violet eyes, giving the damned magazine one long last look, the young man made way to his father’s office, where the two men will be having a long long talk about the public appearances Rhaegar will have to keep.

 

_____________________________

 

In the following days, myriads of news reports bombarded the world with the news of Rhaegar Targaryen’s love life. And needless to say, true to her title, miss-universe-of-gossip aka Cersei Lannister collected all the newspaper clippings and printed out the internet articles. Gathered in the blonde’s bedroom, Lyanna and he twins were having the time of their lives laughing at the frankly ridiculous titles the reporters came out for their article and the insane theories they had about the dragon heir’s love life. 

 

“Listen to this one! Connington drunk in the streets?! Jon Connington, a long-time friend of the young dragon, has been found completely drunk in the streets of Flea’s Bottom outside a strip-club. Despite the joyous occasion of his best friend finally finding love, the said friend didn’t seem to share the happiness. According to one of the girls working that night, the young Connington drank alone for hours and refused all company. Around midnight, the young man stumbled out of the strip-club where he passed out on the streets and was found in the morning. There were always rumours about Connington’s feelings about the Targaryen heir, but now they seem to have been confirmed. Rhaegar’s influence spreads not only to women but also men. Elia Martell truly is a lucky lady!” 

 

“Ugh. Connington. Always found it weird why he glared at us so much when we taked to Rhaegar during those parties, I guess now we know why.” Cersei stated, not a bit fazed that Connington’s just been kicked out of the closet. 

 

“Oh! Here’s a new one we haven’t seen before,” began Jaime, sitting up straight, clearing his throat, and spoke with his best news anchor voice. “According to an anonymous tip, the Targaryen-Martell couple has been seen attending the new Tyrell gallery opening together, and after three hours of waiting outside, the paparazzi finally caught them walking out hand in hand. While waiting for their car to arrive, the young couple also engaged in a passionate kiss! Can this be the confirmation of all our speculations?”

 

“Anonymous tip? Let me see that!” Cersei said crossly, yanking Jaime’s phone from his hands. Scrolling down furiously, the lioness’s sharp green eyes darted from line to line only pausing when she saw the attached picture below. 

 

Letting out a loud pig snort, “Anonymous tip my ass, just look at the angle and the resolution of this picture, no way was this taken by some random paparazzi hidden behind a dumpster. This, my dear friend,” said Cersei as she shoved the pic to Lyanna’s face, “is the doing of the Martells. They must have leaked the info out and staged the whole thing.” Satisfied with her theory, the Lannister girl tossed the phone back to her twin and slouched down next to Lyanna.

 

“But why? Why would they do that?” The Stark couldn’t help herself but ask.

 

“Dunno,” shrugged Jaime. “Maybe the Targaryens are second guessing things… I mean there were always rumours about Elia Martell’s health.”

 

“No, no, no.” Cersei corrected with a wave of her hand, “it’s too late to back down, at this point Rhaelia ship has sailed, though I must say I don’t get why the Martells are so impatient.”

 

“Dunno, maybe they’re hiding something!” The blonde teenager concluded, oddly excited too.

 

“I don’t think they would dare…. I mean even though Westeros abolished the whole monarchy system, the Targaryen name still carries a lot of weight,” said Lyanna quietly. “Maybe Elia just really likes him and want them to be official as soon as possible…” The she-wolf reasoned. 

 

Sensing his friend’s dejection, and with all the sensibility and emotional depth of a brick wall, “True... Maybe it’s time you gave up on him Lya.” Jaime blurted out. 

 

Snapping her head in her brother’s direction, Cersei cast her twin a look of absolute death, causing the teen to flinch. 

 

“Don’t listen to him Lya, it’s true that things aren’t looking good right now and the Dorne bitch will probably end up being Rhaegar’s betrothed but-“

 

“Why?” Lyanna asked, cutting Cersei off. “Why is she going to be his fiancé? They barely started dating?” 

 

Giving her friend a long almost sympathetic look, the Lannister heiress explained, “Because he allows her to appear with him in public. Rhaegar’s 22 years old, so obviously he’s had women before, so can you remember ever reading gossip about his love life in magazines before this whole Rhaelia thing appeared?”

 

Digging in her memories, Lyanna must admit that she has never seen the Targaryen heir in the papers other than formal appearances he makes with his father. 

 

“See! That’s what I meant. Besides, if the Targaryens didn’t approve of the match, no way the news would have spread so fast. With their influence, no one would have dared to wake the dragon.”

 

“And appearances,” added Jaime, “with people like us Lya, appearances are everything. So to a man there really are just two kinds of women. The nameless strings of one night stands and the woman he brings out for the public to see. Black or white, there’s no middle ground. Elia is going to be Rhaegar’s bride Lya, it won’t happen just now, but give it a few years, it’ll come. So save yourself some pain and move on, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

 

“Oh shut up Jaime!” Cersei yelled. “Until they get married anything can happen. Don’t you remember the Redwyne affair. Olenna Redwyne was supposed to marry a Targaryen, but she met her little sister’s fiancé and slept with his, that’s how she became a Tyrell!”

 

“Not betting against you sis, just saying that she should keep her options open!” Jaime ended up saying, his hands up in surrender. 

 

Casting her eyes elsewhere, a small article caught Lyanna’s eye; it was fairly unnoticeable, buried under the dozens of magazines.

 

It read, “TARGARYEN HEIR DISAPPEARS HALFWAY THROUGH FUNERAL! WHERE DID HE GO?”

 

Clutching the piece of paper far harder than necessary, Lyanna folded it and slipped it into her pocket.


	7. The Aftermath part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the late update, I had such a major writer's block for this chap... Anyways pls enjoy!!

5 days 14 hours. That was how long the Targaryens took to make an official statement. Elia could tell the exact number of minutes, but then it would seem obsessive. 

 

Rhaegar…. The dragon prince coveted by all was hers now, at the very thought a grin broke on her delicate face. Looking down on her lap, she began reading the same article for the fifth time since this morning. Occasionally, she would smile to herself while her eyes scanned the words, which at this point, she knew by heart. 

 

“You’re still reading that thing?”

 

Looking up, Elia saw Oberyn sitting at her desk, twirling a jewelled pocket knife between his fingers expertly. 

 

Alarmed, she instinctively hugged the piece of paper close to her heart, hiding its contents from her younger sibling. It was a futile gesture, for he already knew what was written on it, as a matter of fact, most of the Westerosi population were aware of the newly forged Targaryen-Martell alliance.

 

“No need to hide it sweet sister of mine, we are all aware of the news,” said the bronze skinned boy monotonously. “Mother made sure we’re up to speed the second those pompous dragons agreed to her machinations.”

 

“Why are here then?” The older sibling asked. 

 

Oberyn Martell was a hard boy to read. He was the sort of person who would stab someone smiling. There always seemed to be an undertone in the things he would say, whether on purpose or not, he often rubbed people the wrong way because of his strange behaviour. Though born from the same parents, and not to some different nameless paramour, Doran and Elia knew better to claim knew what was going on in their younger brother’s head. 

 

Still playing with his knife, the youngest Martell was the very picture of nonchalance, “I’m here to see your dopey lovey dovey face of course.” He said, shooting a teasing grin his sister’s way. 

 

Unimpressed, Elia put away her precious article, carefully folding it in two and slipped it into her diary, before getting up from her bed and walking up to the other Martell in the room. As soon as she was within reaching distance, she snatched the small blade from the boy’s hands and set it down on the table.

 

“What did I tell you about playing with sharp objects,” Elia chastised, “you could hurt yourself, or worse, someone else.”

 

“Your concern for me is touching sister, but no worries, my blade would never hurt someone unless I will it to.” 

 

“Oberyn, I know you’re not here so we can exchange verbal barbs, state your business or leave,” sighed the dark haired woman.

 

His usually slack facial expression gradually turned serious as he looked his only sister dead in the eyes, “There’s still time you know…”

 

“Time for what?” Elia asked, not sure of what Oberyn meant.

 

“Time to turn back, to cancel all this, to fuck mother’s plan to high heaven,” gritted the teen through his teeth.

 

Alarmed, Elia quickly pulled her little brother further into her room and shushing him. “What are you saying! Are you crazy? What if mother hears you!” The older Martell whispered furiously.

 

“So what if she hears me, once you go along with this, there’s no turning back! You’ll eventually have to marry Rhaegar!”

 

At the mention of the young dragon’s name, Elia’s fiery temper cooled down a little. “I don’t see what’s wrong with marriying Rhaegar,” the woman said in a calmer tone. “He’s been nothing but gentle with me and his reputation is peerless. I can’t possibly marry any better.” 

 

Burying his face into his hands, Oberyn let out an exasperated growl, “I KNOW!” He yelled. Realizing that he was making a scene, the dark haired boy took a few moments to calm himself before continuing, “I know. That guy, despite hi girly looks is a decent man…. But this is about more than just being nice!” Passion returing to his voice, the youngest Martell continued, “The Targaryens marry cousins to cousins, it’s their tradition to keep their blood pure! If you do marry into their family as mother wishes, you’ll be the first non-Targaryen born bride in generations!”

 

“So?” The Martell girl asked, heart set on her silver prince.

 

“So!? It proves how tainted his blood is! Their genetics is messed up sis! Half of the Targaryens babies end up as stillborn! It’s an open secret that Rhaella had at least five other children before Viserys but none of them lived to see the outside of their mother’s womb.”

 

“What does this have to do with me?” Elia asked tiredly, a lively conversation this early in the morning was starting to get to her.

 

“Wh-what it has to do with you?! Are you serious? We both know that your body can barely handle one pregnancy, not to mention the high chances of miscarrying… It’s going to ruin you… So don’t do this.” Oberyn begged, taking his sister’s hands in his. 

 

Falling silent, the Martell sibling just stood there for a while, until Elia pulled her hands out of Oberyn’s grasp. 

 

“I have to do this.” She began slowly, “it’s not just about my love for Rhaegar, this is about the Martell family as a whole. It’s far bigger than just you and me.”

 

Perplexed, the youngest Martell knitted his brows together, silently questioning his sister’s words.

 

“The seven families have been part of Westeros for nearly as long as the continent existed,” said the dark haired girl quietly. “Over the years, the power shifts from family to family, for example the Lannisters have grown increasingly influential ever since Tywin’s ascension. But the dragons always dominate, they have been the center of political power even since Aegon the Conqueror first landed in Westeros. Now, 500 years later, the Targaryens still stand strong, the Lannister empire more present than ever, the Starks never changed, the Tyrells as they would say are growing strong, the Arryns don’t care, the Baratheons are related to the dragons, the Tullys are just fine, and us, the Martells, where do you think we are?”

 

“…… I… don’t know.” Oberyn admitted.

 

“We,” began Elia, “are in decline. House Martell never got along with the Tyrells and our feud with the Lannisters is just beginning. Tywin Lannister and Steffon Baratheon are close friends of Aerys, not to mention Steffon is Aerys’ cousin. The Starks are close to the Arryns and are forging a betrothal with the Tullys, and I heard that the second Stark son is best friends with the Baratheon heir; the Starks have powerful connection with almost all of the great seven families. As for house Tyrell, they have always been loyal to the Targaryens. So it leaves us, the Martells, we have no lasting connection to any of those families, made enemies of two; and as a result we are left quite stranded in this sea of connections we all bath in.”

 

As Elia talked, Oberyn was getting chills in his back, he never knew his older sister to be a woman who understood so much about the world that surrounds them. He always thought that she was a hopeless romantic who still harboured childish dreams. Never would he in a million years dared to imagine the sweet Elia knowing so much and willing to enter this game of thrones. 

 

“Do you see Oberyn, we need to secure an alliance with the Targaryens or we’ll get squashed by the other houses, the Tyrells are just itching to do it!” The Martell heiress exclaimed passionately.

 

“…You sound just like mother,” noted the youngest sibling. 

 

“That’s because mother’s right! We can’t afford to continue like this! As a member of the Martell family, it is my duty to protect my house!” 

 

“I know! I want to protect our family too bu-“

 

“But what?” Elia asked after cutting him off, “you’re the youngest Oberyn, you’re still too sheltered.”

 

Feeling his temper flaring up, the bronze skinned teen glared at his older sister as he said, “Do you really think this’ll work? Mother is lying to the Targaryens through her teeth! This will blow up in our faces one day!”

 

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t! We’ll never know until we try!” The Martell girl screamed back. 

 

As the tension between the two siblings was reaching its max, a cool voice butted in. 

 

“It’s time for you to go to school Oberyn,” said Doran coolly as he rolled into his sister’s room with his wheelchair. “And the next time you two decide to engage in such a lively conversation, it may be wise to close the door, or else it might disturb mother.”

 

As the threat of Martell matriarch hung thick in the air, Oberyn stormed out.

 

_____________________________

 

Oberyn was in a horrible mood, as school, people stole glances at him and were muttering amongst themselves; surely it was about his sister’s affaires. 

 

At lunch, Ellaria made a scene…. She provoked THE Cersei Lannister with the official news of the Targaryen-Martell alliance and nearly got herself punched in the face by the Stark girl, not to mention the Lannister heiress seemed ready to call on the Hound or the Mountain. Sometimes, he would ask himself what he saw in that girl. Fearing a fight, Oberyn rushed to Ellaria’s side and pulled her away, earning himself the poisonous glare of Cersei and the mocking smirk of Jaime. 

 

He didn’t care about getting mocked anymore, as long as they don’t put more strain on their familys relationship. The Martells don’t need more enemies…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't foret to leave some kudos and reviews on the ways out!!! ;D


	8. Lyanna's Woes part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chap! sorry it took longer than usual, please enjoy!!!

Lyanna loathed the expression sweet sixteen. Her sixteenth year of existence on Westeros was, as a matter of fact, the worst she’s ever had, it was anything but sweet. It was like as if the Seven just decided, “Hey! You remember that northern girl who doesn’t worship us? Let’s make her life miserable!” and just like that, she became the gods’ favourite punching bag. 

 

__________________________________

 

Lyanna never imagined her second trip to Baelor would be for her own mother’s funeral… Granted, everyone saw her death coming from miles away, but it still stung, losing her sickly mother. The she-wolf, in a moment of pure humour noire, thought it was almost comical how both times she came under the Seven’s protection in the great Sept of Baelor were both for funerals of beloved mothers. Unlike Rhaegar who had twenty years of motherly love and companionship, the grey eyed girl didn’t have such a privilege. The late lady Stark had been frail ever since the birth of Benjen, and barricaded herself in her room, only coming out when it was absolutely necessary. As time passed, Lyanna became quite estranged with her own parent. 

 

Standing close to the coffin next to her father and her siblings, the female Stark’s mind wandered, noticing small details she would have surely ignored before; like how Brandon’s fists were clutched a bit too tightly together, like how tears were brimming in Ned’s eyes, and how Benjen was unsure of how to act when mourning for a mother he’s barely even spoken to. 

 

One by one, the guests paid their respects, representatives from houses big and small eagerly offered their condolences, not all families sent the head of their house, most times it was just the heir; after all, the Starks were no dragons. Next to her father, the dark haired girl would nod politely and nothing more. The Tullys were among the first ones to offer their sympathies; Catelyn Tully quickly found her way to Brandon and placed a soothing hand on his arm, ever the loving girlfriend. Then the Baratheons came, led by the eldest son Robert Baratheon as the two younger ones trailed behind him. He first pulled Ned into a bear hug and then turned to speak to Rickard in a rather pompous tone, it wasn’t intentional, it was just the kind of man he was. Behind him, the youngest Baratheon boy, Renly imitated his brother’s gaudy facial expression and mannerism down to the smallest detail, causing a chuckle to escape from Lyanna and Benjen. Curious, Robert turned around and caught his little brother red-handed. Annoyed, he slapped Rely on the back of his head and led them away from the Starks. Leaving Stannis, the second son, to apologize on his behalf. As he was getting dragged away, Renly turned his head around flashed a most genuine smile, next to Lyanna, Benjen happily replied with a bright smile of his own. 

 

As the formalities dragged on, the she-wolf was tempted to escape to the back garden like last time, she would much rather be back at Winterfell and lay her mother to rest in the crypt, where a Stark belong, instead in some sept housing foreign gods. 

 

The Lannisters were curt and courteous as always and the twins each grabbed one of Lyanna’s hands sending her waves of emotional support. 

 

And finally, the Targaryens came. Aerys, of course, didn’t bother a trip from Dragonstone, but he sent Rhaegar and Viserys in his stead. Not far behind the silver headed brothers were the Martell offspring, Elia walked closely behind the dragon heir as Oberyn walked further in the back. Adding salt to the wound, the female Stark immediately dropped her gaze to the ground avoiding direct visual contact with their party. The exchange was brief, but is seemed like centuries to the poor girl and when they finally left, the young girl let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The moment she was no longer required to be next to her mother’s coffin, she darted toward the twins, together, they watched as the Martell heiress followed Rhaegar everywhere he went, her arm woven to his. 

 

After a while, Lyanna gradually went back to sulking by herself, waking around aimlessly, she treaded in the outskirts of the gathered people. Keeping to herself and partially hiding in the shadows created by the pillars. She was sad, she was mad, she was disappointed, she was a whirlwind of emotions with no outlet.

 

“Look what we have here, a wolf pup trying to run away again?”

 

Lyanna whirled around so fast she nearly had a whiplash, upon seeing who it was, she quickly denied the accusation, “No! Of course not! I was just walking….” She finished lamely.

 

“I know… Believe I know more than most how you feel right now,” said Rhaegar with a soft look in his eyes. 

 

“Yeah well, not really. I don’t love my mother as much as you loved yours.” Lyanna snapped. Her defenses snapping right up, she didn’t like to be pitied, nor showing weakness.

 

“I see…. But losing family is losing family, I am sure I can still relate.”

 

“Instead of worrying about me, shouldn’t you be more concerned for your girlfriend, haven’t seen her around for a while.” 

 

“Elia? She’s probably in the restroom.” replied the young dragon dismissively. “As for you, you helped me during my mother’s funeral, I will repay this favour.”

 

“I don’t remember doing you any favours!” Lyanna exclaimed, not sure of what he was talking about. As far as she knew they only talked. 

 

“It doesn’t matter whether you remember it or not,” began the young man quietly, “but as far as I’m concerned, you made that day slightly less grim… and I would like to thank you.”

 

Feeling those violet orbs burning into her, “Fine, whatever!” Lyanna said before getting the hell out of there. 

 

As the reception was coming to an end, and the orchestra was ready to play the funeral march for the final send off, Rhaegar stopped them and he took their place. Scrutinized by the dumbfounded looks of all attendants, he grabbed a stool and sat on it. Furious and confused, the legendary hot-head of the Stark family, Brandon Stark, too a threatening step forward before being stopped dead in his tracks by Rickard, who had an unreadable look in his eyes.

 

As if unaware of the trouble he was causing, crashing someone’s funeral, the Targaryen heir pulled out his harp and played. Upon hearing the sweet yet melancholic melody, the looks of doubt and unspoken threats cessed, the funeral march played soothed the Starks’ initial outrage like a balm. As the song progressed, less than noble thoughts began filling the heads of those present. Why was Rhaegar playing for someone’s funeral? Since when did the Starks and the Targaryens get this close? Are Starks finally getting involved in the Targaryen empire? Damn it! Father should have come instead of sending me, now the Starks will probably see it as a slight!

 

The Stark patriarch was also preoccupied, but instead of being flattered by this display, he felt dread. Just what exactly Rhaegar was planning…

 

Unlike the others, Lyanna wasn’t thinking anything, she simply cried, all the bent up frustration she carried came rushing out her eyes. Big, fat drops of tears ran down her pale cheeks, as she desperately tried to wipe them away, a handkerchief appeared under her nose.

 

“Wipe it, your nose is running,” observed Oberyn Martell. 

 

“Wha?” Dipping a finger under her nose, Lyanna felt something gooey sticking to it. Realizing that the other boy was telling the truth, she viciously snatched the piece of cloth from his hand, but not before blushing a thousand different shades of red. 

 

Dark eyes watched the girl’s slender back intently, his gaze unreadable…

 

After blowing her nose into the handkerchief a couple of times, the previously crisp and pristine piece of fabric became crumbled and glued together in strange places by snot. Awkwardly looking from handkerchief to Oberyn, she said, “Do… you want this back?”

 

“…. Do I look like I want it back…” The Martell replied. 

 

Upon close examination of the other boy’s facial expression, which clearly stated if-you-let-that-thing-get-within-five-feet-of-me-I-will-fill-your-bed-with-a-hundred-red-scorpions, Lyanna thought it wise not to stuff the disgusting blob she currently had in her hand back into the breast pocket of his expensive suit.

 

“I’ll take that as a no,” said Lyanna sheepishly. Not on the friendliest terms with the teen, the young she-wolf prepared herself to leave when the youngest Martell grabbed her wrist, immobilizing her on the spot. As the female Stark turned to face him in utter confusion, Oberyn spoke, “You like him don’t you.” As he looked straight into her grey orbs.   
Feeling a chill going down her spine, Lyanna stilled, and feigned ignorance, “Who are you talking about? I don’t like anyone!”

 

Seeing right through the she-wolf’s bravado, he continued, “Don’t play dumb, you know who I’m talking about, the young dragon, Rhaegar freaking Tragaryen.” 

 

This time, the shock was real, she never expected someone else other than the Lannister twins to find out, and especially not the younger brother of her crush’s current girlfriend. In situations like these, where she felt cornered, her Stark instincts would kick in. Snatching her hand back for the other boy’s hold, her pale cheeks immediately flushed red from anger, perhaps also embarrassment, “What do you want?”

 

“Nothing,” said the young man calmly, “only confirmation.”

 

Lyanna’s grey eyes narrowed and she snarled, a beastly sound similar to a direwolf. 

 

Backing off a bit, Oberyn put some distance between himself and the almost feral girl. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything with that information. It’ll stay between us. Besides you’re hardly the only one who has a crush on him.”

 

The young Stark saw the logic in his argument, but she was still distrustful of him. 

 

Upon seeing the strange face Lyanna was making, the youngest Marttell burst out laughing, “Ah…. My sister sure knows how to pick them; there she goes making sixteen year olds her rivals in love. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” Oberyn said, walking away.

 

Troubled, Lyanna stayed rooted for a while before she too, walked away. In the shadows, someone moved. 

 

__________________________________

 

At school, things progressed as they always did, slowly. The entire student body eventually fell into the spiral of blandness and repetition. And Lyanna was one of them….

 

Until one day, the most typical of typical teen fiction novels scenario happened. A transfer student arrived, and it happened to be in Lyanna’s class. Ever since she got separated from Cersei and Jaime this school year, she was utterly friendless in her new homeroom. So when news spread that they were going to receive a new transfer student in the middle of the year, Lyanna couldn’t help herself but to be interested…

 

“I wonder who it’s going to be,” muttered Willas Tyrell, a quiet and gentle teen, seated next to Lyanna. Willas to some extent was the closest thing Lyanna had to a friend in this class, when it came to group assignments, he was the first one she would turn to. The frail looking boy was also in the fencing club, though it was more under parental pressure rather than genuine interest. 

 

As Lyanna was immersed in her own thoughts, the newcomer walked in, and to her surprise, it was someone she knew, Renly Baratheon.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, why not leave some kudos! ;P


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